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Page 10 – Isaac Spencer London Jr. Died (cont.)

Isaac London Jr.

Isaac London Jr., in U.S.A. Army 244th AAF Base Unit at Keesler Field summer 1945. He was 18 then.

Payne, Bettie, Baxter returned to hospital prepared to remain. We realized it was a matter of hours. Nothing that doctors and attentive nurses could do, was left undohe. Especially at­tentive were Dr. Huth, Dr. Rachlin, Dr. Herman, Dr. Ben Stands, Dr. Earl Holt, Dr. J. D. Bradshaw, the colored Attend­ants, the three Brown brothers, Orderly Ellis, Chief of Nurses Miss Bradford, Miss Austin, Miss Squires—and lastly, Miss Mary Neill who despite the fact Monday afternoon that her eight-hour stretch was over at 3 o’clock, so willingly staved on for four hours—until the end. He gradually weakened, his life sapped by deadly Hepatitis With all of us in his room and outside his door—me, Betty, my three children and their haus‑
bands, we waited and prayed and Isaac left us.

This was at 7:15.
And we came home. But we left with the hospital, and Dr. Huth, our full permission for them to next morning hold an autopsy on him, in the hope that possibly something might be learned about his kidney and liver conditions that would help in operating or treating some other boy, and save his life.
And they brought Ike home to Walter King last Tuesday afternoon, then at 8:30 to our house and left him with us. Scores of friends came to call. neighbors sent food, scores of designs, all lovingly and truly appreciated. Ike would have loved them all—he looked so fresh and life-like, a smile, all dressed in the clothes he liked best—his brown sport coat and pea-green trousers — the ones
wore to the dance here Dee. 21st when he was full of life, and hope and the joy of living.
And that’s all, folks.
Again, I beg your patience in this rambling sketch or story. It is written in my room in the early morning hours of Wed­nesday. Friends and more flowers are coming in, over a hundred telegrams; and I shall end this by dressing and going hack into the parlor, again a look at my partner and son. Ike, and on and on. But Ike will remain fresh in our mem­ory, and ever dear in our hearts. A nice boy.
Oh, yes, I forgot to say who he is survived by. How stupid of me. His father (me), his step-mother , the former. Betty Thomasson married Dec. 20, 1941; his older brother, Wil‑

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